Disquiet
by Fallenbelle2
Summary: Despite attempts to put it squarely behind you, the past always has a way of coming back to haunt you.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Disquiet

Author: Fallenbelle

Summary: Despite attempts to put it squarely behind you, the past always has a way of coming back to haunt you.

Spoilers: None specific. Sometime in the future.

Genre: Angst/Drama

Note: There will be a part 2 coming shortly.

* * *

><p>William H. Murdoch, Jr. was only three days old, but already there was no doubt that he was a miniature version of his father. It was as if, George Crabtree had said, someone had cloned the detective. In fact, one would be hard pressed to identify a feature that could have come from his mother-much to William's chagrin-and he repeatedly stated that he hoped that his son would take on more of his mother's appearance in the coming weeks.<p>

For her part, Julia was relieved that the child seemed to be very much his father's son. In fact, she hoped that this meant that the child had also inherited his father's temperament as well; there was no need for the baby to repeat his mother's mistakes.

Considering how attractive she found his father, it was no hardship for her that the boy was very much his father's son. The baby was very pleasant to gaze upon, and Julia loved seeing William reflected in the infant's tiny features when she looked upon him.

For the most part, Julia lay in her bed, recovering from a difficult birth, but the tiny boy who was definitely a miniature version of his father was healthy, and had immediately reduced his normally stoic father to tears of happiness.

While William was undoubtedly besotted with the tiny infant, the same could not be said for his mother. While Julia had gazed at the beauty of her child, and expressed relief and thanksgiving that the child was seemingly perfect, she could not bring herself to actually pick up or hold the baby. Other than the brief moment when Isaac had laid him on her chest immediately after his birth, she'd had no physical contact with her son.

That was three days ago.

But not that the baby was being neglected, between William, Emily, Margaret Brackenreid, and a wet nurse brought in, the child was well-cared for and already loved beyond compare. It was already apparent that the child would want for nothing-except his mother.

It's not that Julia didn't love the boy (words could not express her feelings), or didn't want to care for him, she just couldn't. Oh, she was physically able, the birth had been long, but she was recovering nicely, her breasts were full of the milk needed to nourish him, and she could get out of bed to take care of her needs, but she couldn't be the mother that this beautiful baby deserved.

This baby deserved a mother who could love him without reservation, one who wasn't racked with guilt when she looked upon the child. A mother who hadn't chosen to terminate one pregnancy while reacting with joy over the news of a subsequent pregnancy many years later.

Why was the knowledge of one pregnancy enough to send her spiraling into despair, while the discovery of another the cause of joy?

Was it an issue of paternity with one baby being fathered by the man she loved, while the other was the product of a drunken youthful indiscretion?

What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she look upon her child that she'd made with William and just be happy? Why did she have to be reminded of her previous failures when looking at her three-day-old son? He was innocent of her past actions!

But, she couldn't bring herself to pick up the child and take delight in him. It would be an insult to the child she would have had so many years ago, and Julia couldn't bring herself to betray the child that would have been.

As the tiny boy cried in his cradle, Julia turned her back and waited for William or the nurse to attend to him as they always did.

She feigned sleep and squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears from spilling onto her face as William came in to tend to his son, whispering words of comfort to the boy.

She was sorry that there were no words that could comfort her.


	2. Chapter 2

And here's part 2. Before you throw things at me or leave me nasty reviews, I did my research: Postpartum depression was a known condition at the time (although the treatment was outrageous by our standards), phrenology was already considered a pseudo-science, and baby bottles and formula were invented in the mid-1800's.

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><p>William sat in his study trying to read a journal about phrenology by the English psychiatrist Bernard Hollander and its applications toward criminology, while keeping one ear constantly attuned for his newborn son's cries, but he wasn't meeting with much success on absorbing what the English psychiatrist had written.<p>

Not that he put that much stock into this pseudo-science anyway, but Julia had recommended his writings as he brought a psychiatrist's perspective to the topic.

No, he was far too troubled to think too much about such claptrap-he was preoccupied with more pressing matters-such as Julia's odd behavior over the past few days and the fact that she wasn't interacting with Will (what they'd decided to call the baby since he was so little and there was already one William in the house), despite her regaining some of her usual strength.

Despite trying to give her and the situation some space, he was becoming increasingly concerned about Julia's nonexistent relationship with their son.

He hadn't yet said anything to Julia, as he'd chosen to simply let her rest and recover from the birth and leave her be, assuming her responsibilities as a mother when she felt more like herself. But when she continued to show little to no interest in their son, who was now three days old, he grew progressively worried.

Remembering how close he'd been to his own mother before her untimely death, he wanted his son to experience the bond that existed between mother and child, and he knew that Julia wanted the same-or at least she had prior to Will's birth.

Julia had previously expressed a strong desire to nurse the baby until she returned to work, but as she had yet to interact with the baby, Emily had arranged for a wet nurse to come every day, and William fed the baby at night with a food formula developed for babies. He was happy to share in the everyday activities with his son for now (save for the unpleasant diaper changes), but he would soon be returning to work in a couple of days, and couldn't undertake the burdens of full-time childcare for Will. William and Julia had discussed getting a governess for day care once Julia returned to work, but they had wanted to assume responsibilities in the evenings so that they wouldn't completely hand their child off to someone else to raise.

Emily Grace had told him of stories about new mothers suffering from episodes of severe depression following the birth of their babies, and that it was possible Julia was suffering from such a thing, but William was more inclined to believe that Julia was punishing herself over her past once again. Julia and Emily were close, but he doubted that the younger doctor knew of Julia's abortion-which he was sure was troubling her once again.

He'd told her countless times that he'd forgiven her for her past but he knew that she probably hadn't ever forgiven herself, and in that regard, what he thought was irrelevant. He was going to have to force Julia to confront her past once and for all, but the question was, how did one go about that?

Standing up to pace around his study, William began to formulate a plan. If this didn't work, William didn't know what he was going to do.

* * *

><p>William dismissed the wet-nurse earlier than usual that afternoon (after she had changed his diaper-the one chore of parenthood he didn't care for), and waited for Will to announce that he was hungry again.<p>

Thankfully, it didn't take long, and soon Will's cries filled the house. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, and it took all of his self-control, but he grit his teeth and for once, didn't rush to his tiny, helpless son, allowing the boy's cries to grow louder. He prayed that it wouldn't take long for Julia to approach the cradle, and hopefully, take care of Will herself-finally allowing herself to bond with her son.

Instead, he heard her call out for Mrs. Winston (the wet-nurse), and when she got no reply, for William himself.

_"Not this time, Julia," _he thought to himself, steeling himself to remain at his post outside their bedroom.

That is until Julia came out of the bedroom, and seeing him standing silently in the hall, immediately became angry with him.

"Where on earth is Mrs. Winston?" she demanded.

"I sent her home early," he replied.

"You dismissed Will's nurse and then you callously stand by and do nothing for your son as he cries?" she retorted.

William lost his cool. "Why not, it's what you do."

Looking like he'd just slapped her, she just shook her head. "I can't." she whispered.

"Yes, you can. You just won't. You continue to allow your past to influence your present and future and in doing so, deprive our son of his mother!" he shot back.

Grabbing her arm, he pulled her into their bedroom and gently but firmly pushed her onto the bed, making sure she remained in a sitting position, before striding to the window, opening the curtains with a flourish, before taking a deep breath and calming himself.

He would never touch his son in anger or while he was angry. He'd sworn that to God years ago. Praying that this scheme worked, he picked up his son and carried him to Julia.

Immediately, she crossed her arms and shook her head, fighting tears. "I can't, William. I'm so sorry, but I can't."

"You can, and you will," he replied, sitting behind her while wrapping his arms (still cradling Will) around her.

In contact with her child for the first time since he'd been born, Julia's arms reflexively joined William's, and together, they held their baby, who soon calmed down, instinctively turning towards his mother's breasts.

"William, he's so beautiful, and perfect. I don't deserve him-and he doesn't deserve to have a woman like me for his mother. A woman who is.." Julia began.

"Amazing, brave, and valiant? Julia, as I've told you, I wanted to have children-adopted or not- with you. I wanted you to be the mother of my children then, and I stand by that choice now."

"But, my past, William. The pregnancy I terminated, I…" Julia trailed off.

"You were a scared young woman in an untenable situation. You did what you had to do, Julia. Maybe you made mistakes, but we all do. Accept them, and move on. Stop allowing your past to dictate our future, Julia. Please, for all of our sakes," William insisted.

Nodding her head while tears ran down her cheeks, she unbuttoned her nightgown and with little prompting from either of them, Will immediately took to his mother's breast-as if it was something he had always done.

As the late afternoon sun shone through the window, William held Julia while she nursed their son, and finally, the family became acquainted with one another properly.

Neither Julia nor William were naïve enough to believe that all of the ghosts of the past were exercised that night, but at least there was hope and the promise that they would face those obstacles together.


End file.
